Strawberry Confession:
by Xelan
Summary: Confessions of a working cross dresser


Strawberry Confessions: Confessions of a working cross dresser  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this fic. I am not  
  
making any money off of this, and am doing it merely for fun. The  
  
characters and anime series it is based from is probably owned by  
  
Pioneer. Please do not sue.  
  
Written by Hibiki Amawa   
  
Transcribed by Xelan Metallium   
  
(of course it had to be transcribed, she has horrible penmanship)  
  
Warning: some topics and details in this story are not for children  
  
to read. If you are 15 or below, please do not read.  
  
--------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
I'll admit that I am not a typical man. I've done things  
  
that I am not proud of. There are things that I will never be able  
  
to forgive myself for and things that people will never forgive me  
  
for, but I have few regrets. When things first began, I had no idea  
  
how much I would come to love cross-dressing. How pleasant the feel  
  
of nylon stockings is against my skin, the perfect way that  
  
exquisitely coifed hair flows and ebbs around head, the soft smack  
  
of two seductively painted lips as they pucker and press quickly  
  
together. It's all so perfect, all so beautiful, and all so fake...  
  
My name is Hibiki Amawa and I am a female-cross-dresser, and I can't  
  
stop.  
  
Certainly, it started innocently enough. Me, a young  
  
idealistic teacher fresh from college. Filled with hopes, ideals,  
  
and dreams for a promising career teaching young people the joys of  
  
athletics. My dreams lasted for about as long as my bank account  
  
did. My parents were old by then. They could no longer support me  
  
and I had to make my own way. My pride would allow for nothing less.  
  
I had to prove to them, to my landlord and to myself that I could  
  
find a job and make my dreams a reality. For some strange reason;  
  
however, reality was a bit harder than I thought it would be. It was  
  
just my luck that the closest middle school near my apartment was  
  
run by a man-hater. Of course, I had no idea when I moved there that  
  
they wouldn't hire a man. I had inquired before I moved in whether  
  
they had any open teaching positions, but apparently the vice-  
  
principal didn't mention that men weren't allowed to work there.  
  
Though, I'll admit, I did hang up a bit abruptly. Still, I did sound  
  
like a man at the time, so she should have said something about  
  
their idiotic policy. It would have saved me a lot of aches, both  
  
the physical and the heart kind.  
  
Now, you're probably asking yourself what does this have to  
  
do with my crossdressing fetish? A valid question. I know it sounds  
  
insane, but a long story short is that my landlady had experience in  
  
crossdressing and made up to look like a woman and had me apply for  
  
the middle-school teaching job just so she could get her rent money  
  
from me. Me, being the idiot that I am, I accepted her idea and took  
  
my first step into my lifelong obsession. I won't bore you with the  
  
exact details (which you can learn about in the animated documentary  
  
by Pioneer entitled I My Me Strawberry Egg. Don't ask me where they  
  
got the title) but suffice it to say, I shook things up before they  
  
found out, I wowed them after they found out, and as a side benefit  
  
discovered that aside from my crossdressing fixation I'm also a  
  
closet pedophile. Yeah, I know, I know. I'm one sick puppy.  
  
The crossdressing part of my life I can live with. It just  
  
means that I shop in the women's section instead of the men's  
  
section and I spend a good deal of my salary on lipstick, nylon  
  
stocking and various other absolutely necessary accessories. Trust  
  
me, to most men, they're extras, but to we of the more feminine  
  
persuasion, they are absolutely essential. I would not be caught  
  
dead without my lipstick when I'm dressed up anymore. I've gotta  
  
admit, at first I was worried about my crossdressing. When I taught  
  
at that first middle school, I worried that I might develop an  
  
attraction towards men. I seemed to take to crossdressing like a  
  
fish takes to water and that made me seriously wonder, but it wasn't  
  
really anything I needed to worry about. I'm still strictly  
  
hetersexual. I like women. I'm perfectly normal in that regard, it's  
  
just that my taste in women is kinda messed up. My tastes seem to  
  
run in the no-longer pre-teen to barely teen range. I am so ashamed.  
  
Of course, there is also my hang-up about wanting to look like the  
  
opposite sex. To most, this would be a problem but to my girlfriend  
  
it doesn't seem like a one.  
  
In any case, I pull it off extremely well. After my hasty  
  
departure from my first job, I got a job as a model for a while.  
  
Since no one knew I was a man, I had a lot of fun with that. To this  
  
day, I still get a kick out of seeing young teens staring at my  
  
pictures in fashion magazines during class. If it's my pictures  
  
they're staring at, they just get a warning. If it's some of the  
  
other hussies I worked with, they get detention. Of course, no one  
  
has realized that it's me and that I am still moonlighting as a  
  
fashion model, but some have commented that I resemble their dream  
  
girl. Who am I to break their hearts? Though, I suppose it is a bit  
  
mean of me. Heh, a girl's got to have a bit of fun, right?  
  
Anyway, since I'm writing this during my coffee break, it  
  
can't be too long. I've got two more classes to teach before school  
  
ends, a bikini photo shoot to do across town and Fuko to meet for  
  
dinner. She promised she'd wear her old gym uniform if I get home in  
  
time. The little minx, she knows that she is beyong cute in her  
  
uniform with her little ribbon. I can't wait. Geeze, I'm a bad man.  
  
And I couldn't be happier.  
  
Until later days...   
  
-Hibiki Amawa  
  
-------------------------------------------------------------------- 


End file.
